Page 27 of That First Night
And then, I’m walking out the door before I even let her respond.
If Peyton was comfortable before I got home from work, she sure as fuck is uncomfortable now.
* * *
I was trying to avoid an awkward conversation with Peyton before James went to bed, so I didn’t wait for her in the kitchen. Having a kid who asks too many questions shouldn’t be listening to this conversation about how I barged into her bathroom and saw her naked as fuck, taking a bubble bath.
After putting James to bed, I make my way downstairs to the kitchen and find Peyton shuffling through the cabinets, like she’s looking for something.
Her long hair is still wet from her bath and hangs down to her lower back. She’s wearing a pair of tight black leggings and a gray oversized sweatshirt that says ‘DiLaurentis’ on the back with the numbers ‘66’ written underneath it. My heart begins to pound at the thought that she’s wearing her boyfriend's sweatshirt. She told me in my office that I had nothing to worry about when it came to men coming to visit her at the apartment. Did I read her response wrong?
She doesn’t hear me approach, so she’s startled when she hears me pull the bar stool away from the counter as I take a seat.
“You scared the shit out of me, Thomas,” she shrieks.
I let out a chuckle. “I’m sorry, I thought you heard me come in. Are you looking for something in particular?”
“I was going to make something for dinner because I haven’t eaten yet, but I can’t find anything I can eat here,” she says in such a soft tone, I can barely hear the end of the sentence.
“What do you mean? Rosie stocked the pantry before you came.”
“Rosie?”
“Rosie is my housekeeper. She also does the grocery shopping for me. Occasionally she makes some meals for us and puts them in the fridge for easy grab and go lunches.”
“Oh,” is all she says back, feeling defeated.
I tilt my head to the side to question her without pushing it. I want her to tell me what the big deal is. I know for a fact that Rosie stocked the fridge and the pantry with more than what we usually get because she knew a guest would be moving in here.
“I-I can’t eat a lot of this stuff,” she answers my silent question.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m a vegan. I don’t eat meat, fish, eggs, cheese, or milk. You know? All the good stuff everyone wants for snacks that comes from animals.” She laughs at herself.
“I am so sorry, Peyton. I had no idea,” I rise from my stool to take a pad out of the junk drawer. “Here. Write down what you need or would like to have in the house, and I will make sure Rosie gets it for you. If I had known…” I run my hand through my hair and scratch the back of my head. “I would have made sure it was here.”
“It’s not your fault, Thomas. You didn’t know,” she replies softly. “But I really appreciate you doing that for me. I can always walk to the store in the morning.”
I start to think about what else I don’t know about her as I move to sit back at the bar stool. I know she’s amazing with James and has a history of working in a daycare center where she worked for many years. Her dedication to one place tells me she’s a committed employee. But it seems like she sold her life to move here, but why?
I really want to avoid awkward conversation about the incident earlier, so I start with, “Tell me more about yourself, Peyton.”
At the same time, she says, “About what happened before…”
We both look at each other and laugh.
She’s standing on the other side of the large white marble island in the kitchen, leaning on her elbows facing me and I'm planted on my bar stool. I make a move to pull out the bar stool next to me, encouraging her to take a seat by patting it with my hand.
Moving to take a seat, she speaks first, “I’m sorry for screaming at you earlier in my bathroom.”
Is this girl serious right now? Why is she apologizing formebarging in onher?
“What in the world are you sorry for, Peyton?”
“I shouldn’t have screamed at you like that. This is your home.”
Without thinking, my hand lands on top of hers resting on the counter. The same buzz I felt all those years ago races through my body.
Table of Contents
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- Page 27 (reading here)
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